I yawn and stretch. What a good snooze… OH MY GOSH WHERE AM I?
I look around and all I can see is emptiness. Or Emptiness. It feels like a name. Standing up, I realize I don't know where I am.
The atmosphere in this place gives me the creeps. It feels like death and war. Fingers of fear are clawing at me but I don't let them scratch me. I mustn't be afraid.
I have a purpose which I must fulfil.
"Guard them well, my soldier…"
So I walk the way my head was pointing when I woke up.
After walking for a few hours, I feel a sudden change in the atmosphere. For the first time since I awoke, I don't feel so lonely. It's as if I'm being watched. My instincts tell me I should be worried about this, but strangely I feel as if something is leading me on.
Without asking my permission, my feet change direction and the rest of me is compelled to follow suit.
"Eight?"
I almost jump out of my fabric. A short figure has materialized before my optics, a pinstriped little thing with oddly-sized optics and long, curious fingers.
"Me. I'm 8. Yes. I think…"
The thing smiles broadly.
"I'm 6. I draw," and to prove it he steps forward and draws a large smiley face on my belly. I step back in horror, expecting my fabric to dissolve painfully in the acid. But it doesn't.
"It's ink," says 6 helpfully. "Can I be your friend? Because 1 hates me and everypunk else is busy…"
"Wait- there are more of us?"
6 nods vigorously. "Th-there's 1, he's a meanie-poo; and 2, he makes stuff; a-and the twins, they're clicky; and 5, who's… just 5. And me. And 7, she's a girl."
I blink.
"So that's… 1, 2, 4, 5, 7…" I trail off. It seems I'm not so good with numbers.
"You're the Eighth! That's why you've got an 8 on you," he adds proudly, as if he has solved a great mystery.
"8… That's the one after 7, right?"
He nods again.
"So you'll be my friend then? Yay!"
That's when he collapses, twitching.
"Uh, 6?" I ask nervously. Perhaps this is what you do when you have a friend? Or maybe he's hurt?
My mind is made up for me when he starts screaming.
"6!" I drop down beside him, optics wide in concern. As soon as I touch his hand the spasms stop and he relaxes, still whimpering.
"W-what just happened?" I ask.
"Bad dream… C-Catbeast is coming! RUN!"
I assume this is a bad thing so I start running. However, a few steps on I realise 6 isn't following.
"6? 6!" I shout. He groans and tries to stand, but his attack has weakened him. I can see a huge monster nearby, too close to 6 for comfort…
I sprint over to him. An ingrained instinct gives me an idea.
"Piggyback!" I yell, and hoist him onto my back; not having a clue what the word I just said means or why exactly I said it.
Then I run for our lives.
